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"So," Ian soothed, patting its neck. "So. So. Now we are friends." |
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From a window above Alinor watched. He was so different from Simon in every way but his upright soul. There could be no confusion between them in her heart. |
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"Oh!" Adam's voice beside her drew her eyes. "Oh! Ian can ride Papa's horses," the boy marveled as he watched Ian start off toward the small drawbridge that led to the outer bailey and thence beyond to the walls. "No one else can, not even Beorn. But someday I will," he said, looking up. "I will." |
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"Yes, you will, and doubtless Ian will teach youGod willing," Alinor sighed. Then caution rose into her eyes. Her voice sharpened. "And even more doubtless, Ian will beat you witless if he finds you have tried to ride one of your father's horses before you are ready. Those are valuable beasts. If one should be hurt by your inexpert handling, Ian would be so angry and so disappointed that I do not know how he would get over it." |
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Relief flooded Alinor as she saw the sparkle die out of Adam's eyes. That little devil had been considering trying to sneak a ride on one of those monsters. Probably she had nipped the idea in the bud, but she would have a word with the head groom. Still, the thoughtful expression on Adam's face gave his mother some comfort. It would be dreadful, indeed, the boy was thinking, if one of Papa's war horses should be injured. A whole estate might be put up as a bond to buy a horse like that. It did not occur to Adam that his frail body would be far more likely to break than the leg of a horse or that his mama had never expressed concern for the mishandling of the beasts when she told Beorn to see if he could find someone, anyone, who would ride them. |
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"When will I be ready?" Adam asked. |
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"I am not perfectly sure. Your father told me once that it was a matter of weight as well as of mastery. |
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